


Small Fires

by chrissy2



Series: Small Fires [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 00:17:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18905608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrissy2/pseuds/chrissy2
Summary: Gwil loves giving Ben what he wants, which sometimes means going against what he wants.





	Small Fires

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing and make no money. This is not meant to portray the real-life actors in a degrading or bad way. I just want to write a little bit of porn and romance.

Whenever Gwil was away from Ben for extended periods of time, he'd find himself in a daze as he waited for his cab or his flight, thinking about all the things they had done in the privacy of various hotel rooms. He'd think about it all and wonder if his - thing - for the things he did to Ben had anything to do with testosterone, if it was apart of a man's baser instincts to want to overpower another man, and a man that (to him, at least) was more desirable than himself.

_"You like that?"_

_Ben struggled beneath him, pulling at the chains binding him tightly and possessively to the head board. The volume of his growls were dampened by the ball gag and it was such a sight to behold. Gwil could feel he was getting close. Both of them were._

_With his arms tied up and his mouth gagged, that left only the blonde's legs, which were held in place up against Ben's stomach by Gwil's strong hands._

_"Your body says otherwise." Gwil pants, continuing to pound into his captive._

_More struggles and glares and growls._

_"Don't be like that. Come for me. You know you want to. You don't have a choice."_

_Gwil then glances at Ben's hands up over his head, checking to see if he was snapping his fingers, which was Ben's way of saying "stop" when gagged._

It took Gwil a long time to recognize the things he felt for Ben, then it took him a long time to admit it to himself. Considering their situation - his, Ben's, and Joe's, that is - it was hilariously ironic, wasn't it? They met by starring in a film together, all three in leading roles; a film that was entirely based on a homosexual legend that struggled with his love life for the majority of his life and then dying from it. All the while, the film is littered with homoerotic teases and hints. 

But then again, "cliches" are not entirely bad, are they? Cliches like this are refreshing when apart of the real world, outside of the silver screen in which they provided for sad and empty viewers looking for an escape. 

 

_Is this the real life_

_Is this just fantasy_

 

But the reason why it was so hard for Gwil to admit it to himself was because the whole thing, while wonderful, was also embarrassing. It was embarrassing because this whole thing was meant to be one big joke. Just some good fun. Of course it had to be him that felt these things, the guy that played the depressed guitarist, the literal and politically correct scientist. (Not that he held anything against Brian. He loved that man. He had a special place in his heart for him and all the times they had talked together. Gwil was very lucky to carry out this role.) 

 

_Caught in a land slide_

_No escape from reality_

 

It was at a small party. "Small party" meaning "Ben urging Gwil to come over to his hotel room since he coincidentally was in the same area". The handsome Welshmen met up with Ben and they drank and made videos. The drunker they got, the louder they got. There's lots of yelling, bad singing, and some rough housing. When they fall on the bed together, Gwil's body on top of Ben's, their entire fronts meshed together, there's nothing but silence, and the millions of silent words the two actors share with their eyes, staring straight into each other's souls.

Here, Gwil can only think about how beautiful Ben is up close, how blue his eyes are and how full his lips are. Everything else doesn't exist. Ben looks like a cherub, or a human that Greek gods might torment themselves over. For a moment, it's like Gwil forgets how to fucking breathe - until Ben gently reaches up to hold the handsome Welshman's head in his hands. Gwil is relieved to see that the Englishman looks just as nervous and conflicted as he feels: those blue eyes wavering hesitantly, full lips quivering, breath hitching.

Gwil does not move. He waits.

The cherub below him sits up and the Welshman feels like he might have a heart attack, his chest pulsating so rapidly. If he was shaking all over before, he didn't realize until now. If Ben's heart was pounding just as dangerously, Gwil couldn't tell, even with their bodies flushed together like this. 

The kiss is mostly controlled by Ben in the beginning, as Gwil had once again forgotten how to breathe or move. The room that once struggled to keep their shouts was now only filled with the gingerly sounds of their kissing, the clicking of the lips, the content sighs.

When Ben pulls away and sinks back down to the mattress to look at him, eyes as vulnerable as a doe's, Gwil realizes that Ben is waiting for his response. Gwil responds by meeting Ben downward, kissing Ben with way more force than the first kiss. Now their bodies move. Their throats break into sound once again. Their hands desperately roam each other's bodies, caressing and grasping whatever they can reach. Their breaths struggle in between hard kisses and their heads twisting here and there to get their hot tongues into each other just right, occasionally breaking into soft moans.

What happens after until they fall to sleep is a heated blur. Gwil wakes the next day with a painfully dry mouth, and his first thought is that he needs water. When he opens his eyes, he then hisses at the sun light in the room. When his vision settles, that's when he notes that his shirt is off and an also shirtless Ben is laying at his side, his head and arm on his chest. 

In this lighting, the Englishman looks more like a cherub than he did last night, and Gwil takes this look in for as long as he can stand. He gently runs a large hand into Ben's blonde hairs. A part of him does not want to wake him up, but his dry mouth and throat is killing him.

He caresses Ben's jaw and neck until the blonde stirs. "Ben."

"Hm..." His eyes barely open, struggling with the morning (or afternoon?) light. His tongue sticks out ever so slightly to wet his lips. His throat also sounds dry. "Oh, geez."

When he hisses that, Gwil feels a small anxious bubble in his chest. Was the "oh, geez" from the hangover, or from a feeling of regret upon remembering what they did the night before?

Evidently, it was from the hangover. They didn't even do much the night before. They were both so drunk that they were too tired and impotent to do anything other than make out and caress one another, strip down a bit because it got hot. Even if the desire was there, it was faint, and no amount of rubbing at their crotches could make them fully hard.

When Ben sits up from where he laid on Gwil's chest and pushes the covers off, he sees that the Englishman is just in his boxers. They get some water and shower separately, the day carried out normally.

_"Tighter."_

_"You sure? I don't want to hurt you."_

_"It won't hurt me."_

_"It's not just that...I don't want to make you feel trapped. Like I'm..."_

_There's a pause as Ben looks up at Gwil with blue eyes that gave mixed signals. He looked vulnerable and sad and utterly happy all at once. Gwil's uncertainty faded when Ben finally gave the Welshman a sweet smile. "I trust you."_

_"You would tell me otherwise, though, right?"_

_"Of course."_

If it did have something to do with a male's natural need to overpower another male, what did that say about men like Ben, who enjoyed playing as the one being overpowered? Degraded. Talked to like a play thing.

_The Welshman kissed him tenderly. "Same safe word? Snap your fingers?"_

_"Yes."_

But then again, in these situations, maybe it was the bottom that was in control.

_They were standing for this one, which was rare and fun. This hotel room had an exceptionally large closet with a firm rack. Ben was chained up, his arms once again over his head, with a black duct tape gag this time, which Gwil always liked. The ball gag made him worry about blisters at the corners of his mouth, and black tape complimented his light skin and hair well._

_Gwil doesn't fuck him long here. He doesn't want Ben's legs to get tired. Gwil fucks him slowly and sensuously from behind, one hand pinching a nipple and the other up over the tape, holding it in place. "I know you're tired," he whispered, his lips in Ben's hair. "I'll let you come now. If you choose not to, you'll spend the night here."_

_The hand at the nipple reaches down to stroke Ben's red, aching, neglected cock and Ben whimpers so beautifully that Gwil moans with him. This was the third time he had stroked him, watching Ben struggle in his hold and unable to do anything about it, deny the pleasure his captor was giving him. "That's it, baby. Don't think I won't leave you in here. I could take my hand away now and not give you a chance. You better decide now."_

_Gwil picks up his pace and tightens his grip and the helpless, trembling slave sobs as he comes strips of hot seed onto the floor. This particular sob of release is a sound Gwil would think about for a while after, combined with the image of the flushed, sweaty face Ben had._

_Gwil pulls out and walks around to Ben's front, where he starts pumping himself furiously, aiming for Ben's stomach. Ben closes his eyes as Gwil leans in close enough to lay his lips over the tape gag, panting. The ferocious growl that comes out of him as he stains Ben's stomach with his hot seed is even enough to startle himself. Ben moans along with his growls as Gwil finishes up his orgasm and rubs his cock on him._

__The loud honking of his cab scares Gwil back to reality. He sighs, lifting a hand to signal an apology, and grabs his suitcase, climbing into the backseat.


End file.
